


Chasing a Dream

by Jarakrisafis



Series: Isana [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, Insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: 'Chasing a dream'. A human proverb meaning to chase after something that is not or may not be real.Branka is going to prove that she's chasing something real - because Dwarva don't dream.
Series: Isana [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568344
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

"Where did you find a young dwarf?"

"In the tunnels."

"Not what I... Why do you have a young dwarf?"

"It found me. Stumbled right up to me while I was on patrol and went to sleep at my feet."

"We can't keep it."

"I know. Just look at it though, it's half dead. I couldn't leave it out there."

"Am not an it." She mumbles, curling into the warmth. She's been cold for hours. Days?

"Awake are you?"

She yawns trying to roll over to find who's talking to her. "Yes. And I'm a girl."

"How did you get here?"

"I ran." She says as she squirms. Her bed moves, shifts with her until she can see the floor. Down further away than she is tall. And up is... Is... "You're a Golem!" She recognises them from her lessons.

"We are." The second voice says and she turns to look at that one too. It's just as big, silvery metal and light blue eyes. "Why were you running in the tunnels? It's no place for a child."

She sniffs. She's not going to cry, she's a big girl. "Bad dwarves took me and they hid in the dark for ages and ages." She sniffs again. "I told them they'd be in trouble cos they went into the bad tunnels." She swipes angrily at a tear that's managed to escape.

"Kidnapped then. Why you? You part of a Noble House?"

"I'm a Smith" She says proudly. "The big mean one said he was going to get a lot of gold for a prodigy like me." She frowns, "what's a prodigy?"

"Somebody who is very good at something." The Golem that's holding her says.

"Oh. I'm good at smithing."

"Ancestors save us from another Caridin." The Golems mutters. "One of him is bad enough."

She smacks her hand against the metal. "You can't say that. Caridin is a Paragon."

"Paragon of brooding." Is muttered above her and she takes too long to decide what brooding might mean and if it's another bad thing to say about the Paragon before she's distracted by another question from the other golem. "So, you need to get back to Orzammar, yes?"

She bites her lip. "What if the bad dwarves are waiting for me?"

"We'll make sure they are gone." The one holding her reassures her as it turns and starts to move. It's not uncomfortable exactly, especially when she twists so she's peering out over the large hand that's making sure she doesn't fall. She just has to rock into the motion as each foot hits the ground, the sound echoing through the tunnels as the two Golems move forwards quicker than she could run.

"You feel weird." She says as they pass through another cavern, the carvings half worn away with age.

"I feel weird?" It asks and she hopes she didn't hurt its feelings. Momma says that it's not nice to say bad things.

"Yeah. You feel all," she frowns, "hummy."

"Hummy?" The Golem repeats, and it sounds confused.

She nods. "Yes. You hum. But it's all dark and, and... Weird."

The Golems are silent for long enough she thinks she has hurt their feelings before the one not carrying her tilts it's head slightly. "What does lyrium feel like?"

Lyrium? "Like a happy bubbly song." She says. It's all bright and sparkly in her mind. Oh. Oh! "You're like lyrium, but not." She presses her ear back against the chest she's resting against and she can hear it now. A deep thrum that is a counterpoint to the song soaring around her from the Stone around them.

"A good sense to have for a little Smith." The Golem holding her says and she puffs up in its arms. She's going to be the best Smith ever.

They keep moving and she yawns. "You won't drop me if I go to sleep will you?" She doesn't think it would but it is an awful long way down to the floor.

"I won't drop you." It says.

When she wakes up she has to tug on a finger to let it know she needs down. They both wait for her to get a drink at a pond that smelled clean and to run behind a rock so she wouldn't need to go later. The other Golem picks her back up and she settles in to him, listening to the dark hum as they move thgrough passages that all look the same.

"How do you know where you're going?" She asks as the Golems stop at an intersection. The other one twists its head to look at her before it raises a hand to point at the signpost. She's held up to the sign and she giggles. "It speaks."

The Golems makes a strange grating sound that might be laughter. "There's lyrium worked into them all. The front is just a carving paid for by somebody who had gold to spend or by the stonemason that carved it. The true message is in the Stone."

She runs her fingers over the carving, slowly reading what's carved into it. "Sing praises to the Stone, may her arms be ever open to us." She presses her ear to the signpost, listening for the words she can make out in the song. "Fourth Deep, Second Crossing, Five furlongs, Thaig'Aeducan-Or'tan?"

"You hear that very clearly. It means we're halfway between Ortan Thaig and Aeducan Thaig."

"How does it work?"

The deep grating sound she thinks is laughter fills the corridor again. "A tiny shard of a memory crystal is placed in the Stone and the place they chiseled out filled in." They move on, stopping at the next few signposts so she can listen to each one. It doesn't hold her attention for long, they're all the same except the small changes that mark how far the Golems have walked. Six furlongs, then eight, then nine. She stops asking after they reach another intersection that is marked as the Third Crossing.

She's getting bored watching the same dark tunnels pass by, they all look the same, endless stretches of carved Stone, worn now from years of neglect. The only light is not from the lava which should flow through the channels beside the road and from lanterns set in sconces that have long gone out but from patches of glowing green moss growing down the walls near veins of lyrium that have grown wild without anyone to keep it under control. "Can you tell me a story?"

The Golem holding her hums softly as if deciding what to speak of. "Long ago, when the Stone was young and great Titans walked in the deep places, they brought the first Dwarva to a place they would call home. Yet these Dwarva knew not what to do for they were young and foolish so newly born from the Stone. They squabbled amongst themselves until a group who were brought forth from the Stone at the same time stepped forward. They stood upon the foundations of what would be Kal Sharok and the dwarva bowed to them for they had great visions of what would be."

"I know this story, you're talking about King Bloadlikk, the first King."

"I am, yes. They created Kal'Sharok and the Dwarva were happy, each of the sons taking a group most alike to them to train and thus were the castes formed. Eventually the Dwarva grew too numerous and they called upon the Great Titans who led them out through ancient roads long forgotten to create more wondrous places. The children of King Bladlikk settled in places creating huge Thaigs filled with wondrous things; Kal'Repartha, Kal'Hormak and Kal'Barosh. The warrior caste from Kiotshett created fortresses of rock and metal like Cad'Halash and Cad'Gwaren."

"I've never heard of those." She says with a frown. "The warrior places."

The Golem looks down at her. "I was told this story by a good friend who was descended from Dwarva from Cad'Halash." It seems to sigh, except for the fact that it's not breathing. "The three brothers, Shotkyar, Orzatyar and Orzammar founded places of learning and creation. I think you know what their biggest Thaig was?"

"Orzammar!" She says, delighted that she can answer his question.

"Yes, Or'Zammar was a huge Thaig dedicated to the craft of Stone, metal and lyrium and the brothers named it after the youngest for his people were the ones who had dug it out and shaped it from the Stone."

"What about Ortan, that was on the signpost?"

"Or'tan was built much later but yes, it was originally built as an Artisans place, they became Nobles when one of the Artisans rose to become a Paragon and he named his House after the Thaig. But that is a different story. Lastly there was Koapar and Knakkt who founded places such as Val'Ammar and Val'Dasine, the trading posts of the great empire. Between were the great highways, large enough for caravans of goods to pass through and all Dwarva knew that all roads lead back to Kal'Sharok, the original capital of the Empire." The Golem lowered its voice. "But it is said that if you look hard enough you can find older roads that lead deeper, to ancient Thaigs created before Bloadlikk stepped forwards and declared himself King and to where the Titans might still dwell."

"Have you ever found any?" She asks breathlessly. What would be in a Thaig that old? What would a Titan look like if it's not just a story.

The Golem makes its grating laugh again. "It wouldn't be a story if I knew the answer would it?"

"I suppose." She says sullenly, trying to imagine what a Titan might look like.

"We're going to have to leave you here." The Golem says, kneeling down to let her stand up. "Or'Zammar at the end of this road. You should be able to squeeze through this roackfall and then keep going straight till the guards see you."

"I'm going to come find you again one day and we can go look for the Titans." She says turning back and hugging the huge leg.

"Well, I'll look forward to your return then little Smith."

She scampers over to the other one, hugging that leg too before clambering up the rocks and squeezing between them. They were right as she skids down the other side and stares down the tunnel. In the far distance she can make out the glow of orange fire.

"Come on Caridin, it's a long walk back and I don't want to be here if they send guards out looking for us." the voice is quiet and she looks back at the rocks, listening as the heavy clomp of Golem feet she's just got used to fade away.

She's going to be the best Smith ever and she'll learn how to make Golems and she'll find the Titans.


	2. Chapter 2

Dark, dark, dark. Always dark.

Dark Roads, of course it's dark.

It's not dark though. Light searing, burning, reaching, so bright bright against the dark. She can run a hand along the wall, feel the snap-tingle of lyrium. It's always there so bright bright in her mind.

Was it always though? Was it always there? She doesn't think it was. Not like this, not before her dream.

Not a dream. Because dwarves don't dream. But it was. It is. She can see them when she closes her eyes. Is that not what the book said a dream is? Or is it a memory? Metal cool yet warm and the deep beating thrum of lyrium that isn't lyrium anymore. She remembers that. Remembers. It can't be a dream. Can it? Whatever. Whichever. She's going to find them.

Has been finding them? Yes. Has been. For a long time she's been searching.

"Always searching." She giggles, the echoes bouncing back and she rubs her hand over the lyrium in the wall, watching the blue glow flicker. So pretty.

It wasn't always so pretty. No it wasn't. She made it pretty. She knows the truth you see. They tell you not to get lyrium in the blood because they want to keep the secret. Lyrium isn't dangerous. It's bright bright snap-tingle in her mind and blue light under her fingers. Lyrium is her. Or is she it?

She knows the secret. Don't tell anyone. Don't tell. Never tell.

She didn't tell. Mustn't tell or they'll lock you up for knowing the secret. Never ever tell. Keep it secret. Always.

"I kept it. Yes I did." She licks her lips, head tilting as she contemplates which way to go next. The lyrium runs down the left passage so that's the way she'll go. "Where are you?"

She must be so close close now. She's been searching for... Years? Yes. Years and years and years. She made things, many things, pretty things. So she could leave. They wouldn't let her leave so she made more pretty things. One of them... One? Something. She made something big. Something special. They let her leave then.

"Why can't I sodding remember?" She growls, arm lashing out.

Recoil. Pain. Why? Why did she do that? Swipe the blood off her knuckles and watch it hit the floor. Pitter patter across the rock. Red on grey. She's seen too much blood. She doesn't like red. Bodies piled, blood pooling and splattering across the floor. Screams. Who is screaming? It's not her. She watched and smiled. Smiled as the bodies piled up. They were dying for her vision. For her dream.

She hums, fingers trailing a smear of blood along the wall. She should be sad that they can't see this. They had to return to the Stone to get her here. To the Stone... They're with the lyrium now. She likes that thought. It can't be bad if they're with the lyrium.

"You hear that Hespith love, we're nearly there."

She turns when she doesn't answer. Where? Where? Where? She's gone. Left her. Alone in the dark. She said she'd stay forever. She lied. Why would she do that, she said forever. No matter where we end up. She runs a hand along the cool metal rod in her hand and the two stone golems shift. They won't leave her. They belong to her.

They're not what she was looking for. Not quite. They aren't real. They're dull and dark. A spark of lyrium through stone. She's looking for the ones that burn brightly, burn and shine. They're here, close, hiding behind the traps. So many traps.

Blade slicing, arcing, swinging and the body is on the floor, blood staining the sand and her house are afraid. Afraid. Of that. Cowards. It's not hard, wait and jump, run and wait. The lyrium sparks bright bright in the walls and the floor, she can see the blades as they move, see them swing, sharp, sharp, slicing towards her and she's not there. She had to destroy it so they could follow her. They are blind, useless, why can't they see?

That was the sign though, that she'd been looking for. In the deep roads the only way to survive is to barricade yourself in, stop the darkspawn from creeping upon you. Keep the deepstalkers from chittering and hissing around you. Keep the spiders from coming, chitter chitter as they wrap you up and drag you away. There's been so many traps, so many different routes she's tried, each one lined with danger. So much danger. Nobody can see it but her and they walk in. Walk, walk, walk to their doom so she can see the way past. It's their duty. Somebody said... Yes. Hespith said it was their duty.

There were so many traps she needed more bodies and she had a plan. Cunning, cunning plan to use the darkspawn, use her enemies to do their work. It was a good plan. They didn't like it, they who said they'd follow her. She clenches the rod in her hand tighter, the golems shift. They will like her plan. They have to, she's in charge, Hespith said so. She'll crush them all, crush any defiance until they follow her. She blinks. The golem pulls its fist out of the wall, faint cracks left as chipped rock flakes away. Her hand loosens round the rod. That is past. Done. They're not here anymore. All gone.

She can't think anymore. Why can't she think?

She lets a hand rest on the wall again, the warm shimmer soothing her. She doesn't need to think too hard. She needs to be calm like the lyrium. Calm and bright. Yes. Follow it. Follow. 

The wall ends and she turns into a cavern. Open, roof stretching up, up, until she can barely make out the detail. That doesn't matter though. She can feel the spots of shimmering light in her mind. The bright, bright glow around the cavern.

She's found them. She's found her golems that are more than stone.

She runs a finger down the rod and the two stone statues that follow her stop, unmoving, dark in a cavern of light. She doesn't need them now.

And in the centre is the Anvil. It hums. Loud, loud, drawing her in. She can use it, make herself an army. An army to gather lyrium and make more. It's a deafening roar, a crescendo of sound and then a metal leg is there in front of her, cutting off the siren song she'd been following. She snarls. She needs the song. The leg shifts as she tries to go round and she reaches out, slapping the metal. Warm and bright bright under her hand and she raises her eyes. She stares into lyrium that is so much more than she can imagine. She's looking into a soul and it stares back.

"What have you done little Smith?" There's hands on her, huge, lifting and she gasps at the rolling thunder of its voice as she is lifted up into the air. It's a familiar voice. One from her memories. From her dreams. The one that spoke of ancient things.

What has she done? She's done... "What I had to." She says, smiling. Yes, everything she did was for this moment. All the sacrifices were worth it to be here. "Don't worry. Now I'm here I can make more of you. To help you fulfil your purpose." She pats one large finger.

"I see." It seems sad. She can feel the dark, deep thrum and pulse of lyrium inside it, twisting into a pinpoint of focus.

She can feel the moment it comes to a decision and the fingers tighten.

She feels nothing more.


End file.
